The Sorcery of the World

I had the pleasure of attending Patrick Friesen's latest book launch for Earth's Crude Gravities, a collection of poems.It was held at our friend's house high on the mountainside in Abbotsford, which proved to be the perfect location. The sound of the rushing creek, the natural setting, the beautiful concrete home with its large windows overlooking the valley, all contributed to the mood in many ways, and perhaps even a theme: the returning to what is natural, the eclipsing of the divine.

While I am primarily a prose reader, I feel a keen connection with Patrick's work, possibly due to our similar upbringings. Both of us come from strict, religious backgrounds, namely Mennonite (although I am not Mennonite by blood) which has cultured a lot of how and what we write today. Patrick's latest collection moves further into his abandonment of such religious ties. The poems are wrathful at times, affectionate at others. The imagery is visceral, the sentiment honest and sincere.
I feel an emotional connection to what he writes, a bonding with the resentment and refusal, but yet an appreciation for the meaning within the moments.
Click on the links to order the book, which is not expensive. Amazon has it, or you can order it through Patrick's website as well. You won't be disappointed. Those of you who do buy it, feel free to respond here. Always nice to learn what others thought.

Show and (don't) Tell

I have an almost sick fascination with the editing process, especially when it pertains to my own work. Those drafts that sculpt and fling away the excess, wet clay of adverbs, gerunds, run-ons, push me to find better words, stronger images. The analogies for this process list ad nauseum: peeling away the layers of an onion, chipping away ore to find gold, sifting through your own shit to find your lost loonie... okay, I made that last one up. It all refers to refinement, an artistic butchery that requires thick-skin, objectivity, detachment --all the things that no writer really has, even those that say they do.

Now, I've heard the rumours about Alistair MacLeod (I talk about him too much, I know), how he agonizes over every word of every sentence, builds his story from the ground up with such precision that later drafts are minimal. How many of us can do that? It takes more than ability. It takes... something undefinable that I do not have. But I can learn to filter while I write, encouraging a stronger first draft, even if it is not to the the same degree as the masterful Mr. MacLeod's.

I cringe when I go back and re-read my initial work, then mutter curses under my breath at my lousy habits. Paragraph after paragraph of me telling the reader about a character or scene. It is all crap unless I can show who the character is, reveal her subtleties through a gesture, a physical response to her environment. It is much easier to fire off a quick description than to try and piece together something complicated, and Lord knows I'm prone to taking the easy way out all too often.

Compare the two following sentences:

1) Judith was raw as she listened to Ben putting her down in front of the other girls. She felt embarrassed, humiliated, but oddly enough desperate for Ben's affection.

2) Judith grinds the heel of her left shoe on a piece of brown glass scattered on the sidewalk. Her cheeks feel hot and she knows her nose is flaring, something she cannot control. And yet she still smiles at Ben, absorbing everything he says to her with his cute, crooked grin and harsh eyes, as though she is oblivious to his words and the leers of the girls standing with him.

Not perfect examples, I know. But to me, the second sentence is superior to the first. Judith's actions reveal something human to the reader, something complex about her personality. The first sentence did nothing more than give an account of her emotions.

When you read a great story, what compels you to keep turning the page? Or, what often has you skimming over paragraphs when the story is weak? I'm willing to bet it is the balance of description and action. Too much description and the mind wanders ahead, desperate for movement in the story. Of course, if there is too little description the reader loses interest for other reasons, perhaps a lack of identifiability with the surroundings.

Where am I going with all this? There are mechanical elements in good writing that provide texture to a story. I think as my writing evolves, I'm beginning to implement some of these skills in the early stages, instead of waiting for them to be pointed out later on. I'm learning to identify techniques in someone else's work that compel me and adapt those skills into my own method. Of course I have miles and miles to go.

After all, there are a million great stories out there, but not nearly as many capable hands and minds to tell them.

Local Event: The Short Line Reading Series

For those of you living close enough to Vancouver, you may be interested in heading downtown to The Railway Club on March 13th. Patrick Friesen and some other poets will be reading from their work(s) as part of The Short Line Reading Series, hosted by Memewar Magazine.

The event looks interesting, a collection of different styles and generations, as well as live music. From what I gather, this event's origins are inspired by Michael Turner's (Hard Core Logo) The Reading Railroad, which alternated between romantic poetry readings and aggressive punk band sets. It doesn't appear that The Short Line's format will be identical to The Reading Railroad, but I think this event will be a great experience. Everything starts at 6 pm, with readings first and live music to follow around 8. Click here for Maps and Directions.

I've known Patrick for a number of years now, first as a writing professor and now as a mentor/friend of sorts. His work is impressive, both in its variety and quality: poetry, translation, spoken word and music. But to hear him speak live is an experience unto itself. His voice is unique, impossible to duplicate, and he reads as though the poems are so crucial to him, so intrinsic, that it is an almost painful process to share them. I've heard him read on several occasions, all of which have been meaningful.

Those of you who attend, feel free to post your experiences (good or bad) here.

Vancouver Writes...

The gravest error any writer can make is assuming that what they're working on HAS to be read to by others. The sad truth is no one needs to read your work. Adoring fans, or any audience for that matter, are not conjured up; they are manufactured. And an egotistical perspective of your own work is a great way to find yourself left alone to flounder in your own devices. There can be pride, sure. But respect, humility, and an ability to stroke the ego's of others go a long way too.
You have to sell yourself, which means networking, a huge componant for any artist desiring audience. But networking also provides the opportunity to connect with like-minded people, an invaluable resource.

Networking is not an easy thing to do for some people. There are times when I know I would much rather be safe at home, TV remote in hand, then heading out to some function where people don't know me and I have to schmooze. But it can be a lot of fun, once you make that almost Kierkegaardian leap to get out there.
For all you writers close to BC, there are number of festivals and conferences that take place annually:

On the more literary side of things (see my previous post for thoughts on "literary"), there is a wonderful gem called the Vancouver International Writer's Festival. I attended an event this past Friday called Vancouver Writes, which grouped aspiring writers in competitive teams to complete three writing tasks. For each task, a different published author would join the team as a guide. A poet friend of mine pushed me into going and I was glad she did. Not only did we meet some wonderful people, but I managed to make contact with some great authors/poets like Brad Cran and Nancy Lee, who were more than happy to provide email addresses and information. Their talent is immense, so I encourage you to research both of them. Of course, the wine and other libations helped too.

For those of you who enjoy genre writing (Fantasty, Romance, Thrillers etc.), one of North America's largest conferences is held every year in Surrey: SIWC (Surrey International Writer's Conference). I've attended it twice, even though I don't write genre fiction and made some good contacts on both occasions, not to mention receiving some valuable advice from agents and published authors alike. One great feature is called Blue Pencil which allows you to sit and dialogue with agents and/or authors (15 minute intervals) about your work. If you've completed a manuscript, you can pitch it to an agent or publisher. If you just need some advice or help, they are available for that too.

The important thing is to act. Don't be passive about your writing. Attend events that provide you oppportunity. Be genuinely interested in what others are doing; learn from their successes and failures.

Thus endeth my sermon...

What is Literary?

No Great Mischief

I know that a lot of us often walk by the top-ten bestseller lists in supermarkets and cringe. We roll our eyes at stories of sordid affairs between wealthy octogenarians and well-muscled pool boys, thumb our noses at yet another supernatural thriller about demon possession. Of course, from time to time when no one is looking, we’ll grab one of these little brain-candy pieces and read them while we hide downstairs in the den with a flashlight held between our teeth and a blanket over our heads. But we would prefer to be known for our exquisite taste in literature (like the Macleod book pictured here... absolutely brilliant), our wealth of knowledge about Steinbeck, Faulkner, Thoreau and the multitude of other greats Oprah has unfortunately claimed as her own. We consider them to be “literary” greats, genius scribes in a kingdom of hacks. But what does it mean for an author's writing to be “literary”?

This question gets asked all the time and the answer is more difficult to come to than you would think. I attended a seminar at a writing conference a few years ago that posed this question of literary value and everyone seemed to have their own opinion. For some, it was an indication of something that had stood the test of time, a classic like Crime and Punishment or The Age of Innocence. For others, it was word choice: the author’s painstaking measures to craft the perfect sentence. Still others said it was those books that garnered critical acclaim.

It’s perplexing that such a simple word has such a complicated definition, maybe no clear definition at all. I discussed this with a poet friend of mine once and she made the rather intelligent observation that the term had become ambiguous. It may not have started out that way historically, but now the word is used in so many different scenarios it cannot possibly retain a clear, decisive meaning.
She may be right. The definitions mentioned before cannot stand on their own accord. We cannot place all classics along the same gradient. Clearly what Dostoevsky did was monumentally different from Dickens, or Edgar Allen Poe. Likewise, some authors have different skills at morphing words into images (compare Alistair Macleod to Rohinton Mistry). And, of course we all know that critical acclaim is in the eye of the beholder. There are enough awards to go around for everyone, and what one considers prestigious, another may find laughable. And yet these authors have a vast number of readers, and their books are almost sacrosanct.

So, what then do we use as our barometer for literary value? In my mind it is likely a combination of all the mentioned definitions plus some personal taste. I’ve always said that our approach to literature, film, painting, illustrations etc. is similar to wine tasting. When starting off, you go for what is sweet, what tastes good to you. But as time goes by, and your palette develops you begin to notice complexities to what you drink, subtle flavours or influences. Art, in kind, also grows to become something more than sweet entertainment. Embedded in its subtleties lie truths about human nature, relationships, the earth and how everything interacts. In other words, the term “literary” is a blend of certain poetic qualities and nuances but also a reflection of someone’s own artistic journey, the ability to empirically detect more than what appears at the surface and to feel the weight of words.

5 Things...

Okay, this is completely off topic for my blog and I'm wary to partake, but considering how few people actually read this damn thing I've decided to play along... mostly to appease my wife, The Mighty Sally. I was tagged by her and informed that I must comply.

So, here are five things that some of you readers (all three of you) may not know about me:

1) I cry in movies. That's right, you heard me. For some reason I find myself to be rather emotional in films... good ones at least. Worst culprits are: Dancer In The Dark, Lost in Translation, and The New World, which in my mind are some of the more beautiful achievements these past few years.

2) If I could be anything in the entire world, I would be a singer in some metal band. While I love all kinds of music, especially the older, protest music of Neil Young and Bob Dylan etc. I love the raw, brutally honest sentiment of metal. I love the way it screams out at injustice, revels in its own bleak outlook. I've sung before, could even pull it off. But, as a good friend of mine once said, we never pursue what we truly love because to fail at that could mean the end of our passion. I'd love to be a MMA fighter too, but that's a close second.

3) My biggest fear is to fail as a father to my upcoming child. I suppose we all are keenly aware of our own shortcomings, those hidden and those more obvious, but I worry that mine will one day prevent me from connecting with my child completely.

4) I hate South Park. This may be a surprise to most people who know me, as this would probably be the one show they'd think I love. Untrue. This show sucks. Its social commentary is minimal, the characters are funny maybe once every thirty episodes. Even the religious slams, which I normally adore in other shows, fall short. Stupid, ineffectual crap.

5) I think car racing, whether it be Indy 500 or F1 or whatever, is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Not only is it an environmental disaster (think of the amount of fossil fuels being wasted), but it has absolutely no positive effect on any element of society, save for the red-neck faction who somehow think noise+fumes = entertainment. In fact, I have no real interest in cars in general. Sure, I'll buy one to get around, but I do not spend time thinking about which fancy sport car would be cool to drive. Do not care. I wish we didn't need a car at all.

I guess that's it...

Edit This, Muffler Trucker

Most of you struggling writers out there can attest to this: generating income from writing is bloody difficult.. damn near impossible really. Okay, not actually impossible, but frustrating enough that every once in awhile you consider going back to whatever menial job you once had and ignoring your writing impulse for as long as you can. I'm with you, no question.

The past few months have been spent researching other writing possibilities that can help with the household income. Getting a short story published really doesn't cut it. I am fortunate (blessed, really) to have a wife that makes a decent salary while I pursue these inclinations. And thank the sweet baby Jesus in his manger that society no longer frowns on the husband being the "stay at home" half of the relationship, albeit my in laws still secretly mutter about my apparent lack of responsibility. My discoveries so far: it is a slow process, full of plenty of rejection. But, it can be done.
I've started a correspondence introductory course on Editing/Publishing from Simon Fraser University (SFU) here in Surrey. It's interesting enough, even from a writer's perspective. Lots of insight into the various types of editors out there and their respective roles: hunter gatherer, liaison and everything in between. There is potential here. A combination of factors, namely the mass influence of the world wide web and the corporate takeover of most of the major publishing houses in North America, a lot of the actual editing work (read: grammar, style, flow, consistency, accuracy etc.) is freelanced out. This means opportunity, once schooling is completed of course. But at what cost?

Much in the same way I think Creative Writing and English (studies) are at odds (construction vs. deconstruction), I think Editing and Writing may be opposing also, though not to the same extent. The job is all consuming. Most of the work revolves around ensuring the publishing machine is running smoothly: money is being put in the right places, copywriters are doing their jobs, the author is happy. At the end of the day, the editor takes the manuscripts home with him to read in his "off hours". This, of course, would be the exact time he should be working on his own material.
An even more complex notion is the issue of becoming a part of the publishing collective; your brain begins to self edit your work to suit the publisher, not your own sense of voice and style. This is perhaps the most deadly of outcomes. Publishing houses are choosing books for their marketability these days, their potential to sell to whatever demographic will offer the most money. It's a business sadly removed from any romantic love of the written word. Most writers cater to the publishing houses, then to the market, then to whatever remnants of their creative voice they feel they have left. Take a look at the bestseller lists in the supermarkets. Horrible tripe most of the time, and yet these are the authors who make the most money. I don't want to fall into that plastic, soulless realm. But, in the same breath, I want to have my work read... even at the risk of it being disliked.

So the trick is finding that razor's edge, that precarious perch where I can balance both my writing, my responsibility, and... my ego. What a vain existence. Slip one way and I'm a sell out. Slip the other way and I've become narcissistic for the sake of some dim vision of art. Stay perched on the edge and I'm safe and... mediocre. And this is all assuming that I have something to offer the industry to begin with. Writers are an underpaid, prattling lot. I suspect many write one way to survive, and another way to experience their lives fully. This is what I would love to be able to do.